Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A puppet story

Marionettes on the stage of life
Plastic smiles and painted lips
Held together by strings of hope
Connected at the fingertips
The one in white is all alone
Laughing at painted stars
The one in red is angry now
As he counts the long lost hours
The purple monster screams in haste
To scare his counterparts
The yellow headed geek just smiles
As cupid shoots his darts
Our story traces the little pink thing
The puppet in the cage
And the little black soldier with the crystal gun
Who never seems to age


She prances about in her sheltered world
Rarely venturing out
The strings that hold her have firm rules
Which she never must flout
Safe and pleasant she bides her time
Coz safe is what she's been
Never dares to explore
And see what she's never seen
An occassional night time tryst
As the sky of cloth does dark
Somewhere beside the sea of paper
Watch the ships of wood embark
Glow in yellow candlelight
In this old fashioned set
A smile always on her tiny lips
Whatever she may have felt
Tarrying along in the make believe world
Waiting for a fairy tale
Hiding from the claws of time
Lest her dreams may fail

The Black soldier

He's a rebel yet a conformist
Tugging at the strings of hope
Carrying around an infectious smile
As he sings along the road
Once he had a zillion dreams
All lost in the hallways of the years
At war with himself and with others
Whoever brings back his fears
Holding close his crystal gun
Though seldom he might shoot
Out to protect his molten core
When he passes a dangerous route
Shooting rays of crystal hope
From his little gun
Teaching love and how to feel
Drinking up the fun

Pink and Black

Our soldier once on journeys wide
Meets the doll of pink
Shows her life beyond the cage
Makes her stop and think
In lines of pretty poetry
Drowns her inhibitions, all
And ties her with his strings of love
Lest that she may fall
Holds her close through sun and rain
In the plastic stage
Wipes her tears and makes her laugh
And calms her putrid rage
At the world that holds her there
Away from her real self
From her thousand worries far and wide
That she formulates herself


The war now looms at large
And soldier's out to fight
The duties of the plastic world
Have finally come to light
A hundred streams he must cross
A thousand demons face
A million thoughts he must defeat
If he wants to be in the race
The rose tinted little girl is now
Melancholy and blue
Left back to face the empty cage
To dream those dreams alone
The fictional palace is now long gone
The cage merely a prison is
Assurances fall on vacant ears
As her mind succumbs to disease
The war out there will never end
The soldier never return
The subtle words from the hollow years
Can never cure the burn
She still ventures out on her own at night
Daring herself to face
Divine wrath from heaven above
Or perhaps the devil's grace
And tomorrow she knows is simply lies
In this plastic world
So she puts up her plastic smiles
And ventures out to learn
She calls at him one last time
Before she starts to flee
From the world broken by time
And be what she wants to be
The soldier sways to the tunes of the world
All has now been changed
She must move on
Coz everything has been rearranged

Monday, June 29, 2009

Blog Revamp!

There's a change in the air. Seasons are changing, time is, people are..
So why shouldn't my blog.
Transitions and transitions
Phases and phases.
Colors of the Universe
Splashed out here on these pages
Full of thoughts and shattered dreams
But appearance is what matters
If the pages are bright, each negative must have a positive connotation
What irony! What optimism
Read on!

Diffused thoughts

"Where am I, where have I reached", she screams

"In distorting dreams of pain,

In depths of pleasured agony,

Where all goodness lies slain."

Is Goodness what it really is,

In this realm of the unreal.

Is she a disciple to the devil,

And did he teach her to feel?

Her mind's a treasure trove of all

That claims to be experience,

Her heart melts at every step

As she weeps for deliverance

Through torrential rains of trouble

She has made it up this far

Buried conscience somewhere along the way

At some unearthly hour

She smiles at everything she learns

Coz knowledge's all she's got

And answers the inner rebel's call

To escape from loneliness' draught

And as she finds her step in the dark,

In this nightmare of old

She holds together her damaged pride

By threads of weathered stone

A ringing laugh in the ghostly chasm

As she falls effortlessly through

"I will rise from the ashes below

And against all, emerge anew"

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Extricating the droplets of pride, from the ocean of self immolation, into a fire of eternal passion, to find another world away from mine

Hiding from a destiny that never was, in a shelter that never is, nestled in a hope that shouldn't be, to an end I could never accept

Dissolving in feelings that I can't define, absorbing a numbness I can't believe, lost in a dilemma that i don't like, yet captivated by reality

A conquest that is barely a win, an ally the devil within, lost in an immoral whim, that maybe my only reason to smile

Conjectures of yesterday, where minds and souls and bodies play, the memories of a different today, a connect against the tide

The end the beginning must be, the satyrs of bygones must rest unknowingly, and we be bound despite the anomaly, that we will never be one.

Seasonal contemplations

[ The first rain is superbly inspiring. A by-product of the same]

Drops of rain,

Chilling to the core

A swift breeze dousing you in a fragrance

Shivers and sighs,

Clinging fabrics

An explosion of green greeting the eyes

Puddles and splashes

Children’s laughter brightening the streets

Thrilling thunderstorms

And then the lightening, lighting up dark corners,

That tiny fear of revelation

Then the ringing laugh of security

Waterfalls down the hillsides

A million birds chirping at a moment’s respite

Grumbles and groans

At the tiniest indication of the mundane

Spicy scents from every neighborhood shop

Tantalizing the senses further

Unexplained hunger

Satiated by little, by few

Prospects of expeditions

Of adventure

And then of returning home

To a warm bath

Deep philosophical contemplations

Over liquid pleasures

Emotions unveiled through cryptic words.

Invitations to interact

Or implications of solitude

Smiles tears groans moans

Together with the world, or completely alone

Sunday, June 7, 2009

“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”

--- Jim Morrison

Simply love this quote

On death

“I wouldn't mind dying in a plane crash. It'd be a good way to go. I don't want to die in my sleep, or of old age, or OD...I want to feel what it's like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don't want to miss it.”
--- Jim Morrison

The doors genius ironically died of an OD. Life laughs at us sometimes. A friend introduced me to this quote and it got me thinking. How would I want to die?
I don’t know. But I don’t think I want to hear it. Coz all I’ll hear is people calling me back. I don’t want to taste it, coz there’ll be a bitterness of things not accomplished, not done, not experienced in a lifetime. And I definitely don’t want to smell the nauseating fear attached with it.
I would rather die in my sleep.
Jim also said,

“People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend.”

I don’t fear death. I guess I fear pain though, my own and others’. I want to be gone in a flash. Before anyone has time to grieve, to realize, to prepare. Just evaporate if possible. Just disappear.
When it comes though, I don’t want to be ready. Coz I’ll never be brave enough to die. It should sneak in from the back and whisk me away to the other land…..